Tried this salad recipe the other day. Failed miserably. Perhaps it's that I'm not hugely fond of avocado. Perhaps I had too much spinach in the salad so that I couldn't get much of the raspberry jazz flavor. Whatever it was, it sucked. Won't try this one again.
A six and a half hour date has to have everything go perfect in order to not be burned out at the end.
Oddly enough, although I am a former drunk, I have never smoke a joint of marijuana. Not once. I've been around it quite a bit and many of my friends have smoked. However, it just never seemed interesting to me. I avoid it now because I like to avoid anything mind-altering cause I tend to use it as a permanent crutch for my personality problems. Back in the day, I always said "no" because I was quite content with my bottle of 151.
I don't have a problem with pot-smoking though. Smoke some here. Smoke some there. Fine by me.
But I will say this. The people who run the booths at HempFest, the organizers of HempFest, and a large majority of the attendees at HempFest are pretty much freaks who need to lay off the stuff for a little while. Cause it leads to a warped sense of reality.
For example: does all glass art just have to be a bong or pipe? Why does all the textiles made end up falling into the same categories of drab earth-tone and colorful tie-dye? If you are really freeing your mind, why does everything there look the same?
I spent the whole time looking for something interesting and different, and failed to find it.
On the plus side, the people watching is great. All types are there: hard-core pot-heads, dedicated lefties, wannabe teenagers, and tourists like me. Apparently most women get into the spirit of freeing themselves by leaving their bras at home. I still think that we need painted markers for people to follow so foot traffic can move, but my bet this crowd wouldn't and couldn't follow the directions.
And one last thing I will note, HempFest, in spite of it's rhetoric about being a reform movement, is really an excuse for the grandest of American pastimes: selling stuff. Yep, it's capitalism. If I could make a serious amount of dough by not showering and dreading my hair and selling cheap necklaces for far more than it cost me to make them, while traveling the United States from festival to festival seeing the sights, I would be so there. But I make a lot more by making web pages for money.
Oh wait, one more thing. Someone really needs to relay this to the HempFest organizers. When people I know become heavy drinkers and alcoholics, they do not immediately get rid of their suits, buy a gross of wife-beaters and sit on their porches yelling abuse at the neighborhood kids and dogs. Neither do the pot smokers quickly chuck their bras, dread their hair and stop their subscription to the soap-of-the-month club. They are not exactly representative of the marijuana smoking public. I just needed write down that analogy though.